#and I had NO IDEA you were famous

[deergirlslut]

Damn that sounds so cool. Wish there was a show of people with various levels of fame just playing tabletop together with a cool host :/

[octibee]

fuck it saw art dump

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Two panels from Dungeon Meshi. The first scows Senshi clutching his face as tears start to spill out of his eyes, saying, "I've always... always wanted to have this soup one more time." He's not wearing his helmet in this panel, so his face is unusually visible, detailed and vulnerable. The second panel shows himself as a youngster, surrounded by his old mining team, all smiling at each other, one of them rubbing Senshi's head. Modern-day Senshi continues, "Thank you. All of you. Thank you." End ID.]

Holy shit. I anticipated some tragic backstory from the "I must feed the young ones" panels, but what I'd guessed was that Senshi might have become so devoted to cooking and eating literally whatever because he'd previously survived a famine and had seen children starve to death. I did not expect him to have been the child who was the sole survivor of a doomed travel party, one of whom was determined to feed Senshi first because he was the youngest, and that Senshi has lived with the fear of having inadvertently committed cannibalism by eating stew that he'd never quite known the contents of. I'm happy for him that Laios deduced and confirmed for him that it was griffin meat, that he was able to taste the meal that saved his life once more and remember the friends he lost. Seriously, I'm crying, and also earnestly relieved that while his backstory is pretty dark, it's not the type of fucked up I'd been preparing myself mentally for.

[luckyguyy]

when Petrice is getting absolutely shut down by the Grand Cleric and then suddenly she gets shot in the chest with an arrow

and then it’s revealed a Qunari archer has snuck in

and then he shoots her again in the fucking head

and then you’re all just standing there looking at each other

and then Grand Cleric just calmly and coldly goes “Please, send for Viscount Dumar” from the staircase

FUCK

game of all time for real

[eybefioro]

Two words prompt: wishing well.

Fandom: Good Omens.

Have fun!

Aziraphale walked in the empty halls. His footsteps echoed loud in his ears.

At the distance – because it was unnerving how much distance there was in heaven – he could see the other angels coming to and fro. He couldn't even see their faces, or distinguish any characteristics in them, from where Aziraphale stood, they were nothing but silhouettes.

He missed Earth terribly. He missed his worn clothes, his comfortable routine. The little restaurants, the people. In a weird way he even missed the bad people, the mafia threatening his bookshop, and the rude costumers trying to buy his books. He missed music and he missed the chaotic streets, but above all, he missed Crowley.

He sighed, looking at the infinite glass panels. At the fake landscape bellow – they were only projections, he knew. Those glass panels were nothing but screens.

And he hated it.

He touched the window, and there was no warmth, no heat. Even the light coming from them was artificial and cold.

Even with all that space he felt trapped in a glass bowl. Those screens were a mimicry of freedom, simulating the complexity and creativity of humans and their world, while trapping the angels up there. Exposing what none of them could had, and that what all of them were lead to believe was undesirable.

His thoughts inevitably turned to Crowley again as he rested his forehead on the cold glass. The glass didn't smudge with the oil of his skin, didn't even fog with his breath. He sighed and closed his eyes.

He felt a tug on his chest. A twinge compelling him to open his eyes, to let himself hear; it was strange, but he followed the instinct and gave in, looking ahead again.

Tha landscape in the screen had changed. Instead of the miscellaneous buildings took off context, there was Crowley.

Aziraphale gasped, and looked around, trying to hide the scene with his wings – but there was no one to see it besides him, no one around.

To the other angels in the distance he also was naught but a silhouette.

His knees trembled, and he slid down to the floor, not understanding what he was seeing, in equal parts grateful and hurting for seeing the demon again.

There Crowley stood, just outside a tiny oasis surrounded by desert. A long forgotten place on earth, but that Aziraphale knew well, a place that once was the outerskirts of the oldest garden; the first miracle he'd ever performed. The humans had been suffering, had been parched. The sword could protect them, the fire could warm them at night, but it didn't provide respite in the vastness of the desert. Aziraphale had observed them, and had made the smallest water spring emerge, the plants had grown and had given them shadow so they could rest. The humans had thanked the guardian angel even without seeing him, even without knowing his name, and had placed rocks around the place to mark their gratitude.

It had been years since he had last visited it; Aziraphale started panicking. Crowley shouldn't be there, should never get near it. He didn't knew Crowley knew about it, but looking back now, it made sense that demon could be watching him watching the humans. It made sense that Crowley, of all the beings, would be the one to know about the singular sanctuary made for the angel Aziraphale. The only place were he could hear prayers from.

"Aziraphale."

The name made his ears ring.

"Aziraphale, do you hear me?"

He couldn’t respond, could only watch and hope, as tears cascaded down his cheeks.

"Aziraphale, here I am in your place of worship," Crowley took a step in the circle of rocks wincing, "Here I am, barefoot in this fucking sacred land," there was a mocking tone in Crowley's voice, even if the sincerity behind it was undeniable. Aziraphale wished he started hoping around instead of just standing, and that he'd leave; he could see the fumes in his feet, the way it was burning him, but he knew there was something even more dangerous in the middle of the oasis. "Before you start getting all twisted, I will not take the holy water, you idiot. I have no desire to die before I can embrace you again." Despite himself, Aziraphale chuckled between sobs, even as the panic churned in his veins. "I just wissh to talk. I will go down. I will be duke. I hate your plan. I hate to be back, and I hate that you're back up there," his voice was strained, hisses appearing, his demonic nature emerging as the pain flared from his feet, "but I trusssst you. Unfortunately I do. But I can't be an angel ever again. I will go down, and I will wait until we met again."

Crowley was looking up, but he suddenly averted his eyes, and Aziraphale knew he was crying. It took some moments, but he talked again after a sharp intake of breath, "I- Aziraphale, what I did- that wasn't how I wanted it to happen," he looked up again, and there was anger in his uncovered eyes, "But I am not ssorry for it. I do not wissh to be forgiven for anything. And if you ever try to forgive me again for loving you I swear to g- Sssomeone I will- I will never talk to you again." He was smiling wickedly, making Aziraphale laugh hearing his words back to him.

"I'm serious, though." He took some steps into the oasis, and Aziraphale’s heart tightened. Crowley's gait was too stiff, too controlled, as he tried to keep going without jumping around, and he got closer and closer to the small water spring.

"Tosssss the coin so we sssee who gets to do the dance thiss time around, eh?" And he flinged the coin in the water, and he was gone. The screen turned back to the inane projection, and Aziraphale felt a weight in his pocket.

The coin. A promise that they would see each other again. A material object in heaven, providing a weird type of confort, a materiality he craved.

He got up, trying to recompose himself, smoothing down the waistcoat that couldn't be smoothed.

Walking towards his desk, the weight in his pocket was grounding; he worried the coin, the same that had been tossed for Edinburgh, the one that he knew had a weightened side, and thanked the demon.

Send me a prompt!

[astranauticus]

oh lol i forgot to post this robit sketches! because i have one (1) bit and im sure as hell gonna commit to it apparently

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Yeah... I remember seeing the architectural design majors at my uni having this breakdown each semester...

[cypric-rat-hyperfixation]

As my following grows and as I meet more and more people who have rats, had rats, know someone who has/had rats, and love rats...

increasingly I wonder if/when a day will come... a day that I'll express rat enjoyment to someone and they'll enthusiastically ask me if I've heard of This Funnie Little Rodent Blog they like, figuring I may already know it or will enjoy it if not...

and it's.. my blog... and then I have to come out as popular Rat Tumblr blogger that they follow and now know IRL.......

[nofuckingbody]

what I often think about is abandoned blogs .....you never know about the owner, there must be so many blogs who used to run is dead now, became a millionaire, or lost everything while gambling, or is living in the woods far from everyone theyve ever known, or is in jail. there's infinite possibilities of reasons why they aren't active anymore, that makes me go insane

[kingofthering]

I know it’s a good thing to no longer be tracing how much I write each month (did so from June of 2020 to September of 2023) but oh boy am I jealous of my past self in some regards.

[theteaisaddictive]

and a hearty fuck you to my mother, going on about women’s rights being erased by transgenderism in one breath while trying to claim that it doesn’t make her hateful in the next one. it breaks my fucking heart that she’s landed on this side of the culture war, and that she’s too blinded by her own stupidity to even see how hateful she’s being.

[booigi-boi]

Poe Party came out the year I was in art school, and I fell heavily in love with ravens and other corvids cause I was drawing/painting taxidermy ravens a lot. I now wonder how different my life back then would have been if I had known the series existed

Am a little sad, ngl, I definitely would have made it my whole personality (As if antisocial Poe isn't my personality now)

[statementlou]

OH I really need your opinion about Louis being so emotionally intelligent, I think it's barely even talked about it here

ARE people not talking about it? What a funny thought! As a post-hiatus fan, I'm accustomed to thinking of myself as something of a newcomer, even though it's been years now, so it's weird to realize I've been here long enough to see patterns and trends come and go and come again. It's even weirder the way trends in fandom can be completely forgotten and erased when the boys, in contrast, eternally exist in all times at once, everything they've ever said considered to be equally valid to their current lives whether they said it 12 years ago as teens or just yesterday as whole ass adult men! Anyway my point is, there was certainly a time when Louis' emotional intelligence was discussed a lot, AS IT SHOULD BE. For sure so much when Walls came out it was... those LYRICS!! Yes, without that gift he's still gorgeous and smart and embodies a unique and bewitching gender presentation and has a beautiful and captivating singing voice… I guess there are a lot of other reasons people might like him. But to me the thought of that not being the top of anyone's "why Louis" list is bananas, it feels so absolutely central and necessary to understanding what makes him special!

It's certainly a lot of what makes his songs resonate with people- he's a skillful lyricist, he could craft clever little twists of phrase and metaphors regardless, but it's his emotional intelligence that sets him apart imo. He describes it as honesty, and yes- the willingness to be vulnerable and reveal your feelings is special, but what I don't know if he even really realizes is that for so many people it's not just an unwillingness to open up honestly like he does, it's that they are genuinely unable to identify and understand and name what's happening inside them like that. I think it comes so naturally to him that maybe it can be hard for him to recognize that that experience isn't universal.

I really appreciate that you used the words emotional intelligence specifically, I love that phrase; I think framing it as a form of intelligence is correct and important. It's a skill set that is dismissed as "feminine" and so less important or easier to access than intellectual intelligence, but it's none of those things. And it's a minority of people who, like Louis, are both intellectually and emotionally very very sharp. I'd say it's a reason he was been able to stay such a good person in the face of things that can easily ruin people (being rich and famous from a young age, trauma and loss), and it's certainly what enables him to be so good at his job. It elevates his songwriting above the ordinary, but also it gives him the tools to do the dance of giving the public something to connect with and making it feel like he's completely open and present without actually giving away too much, which would be absolutely impossible without emotional intelligence- if you don't know your own boundaries or can't intuit on the fly what people respond to, it simply falls flat and seems forced. We've been seeing him exercise those skills close up and in person over the last few days in the signings, making everyone feel special and held and like they got a personal special moment without actually telling anyone anything much or going overtime or getting sucked in to any weird interactions! Again, something that would be nearly impossible without those kind of people skills.

It's actually really funny the way the discourse recently (speaking of changing tides in fandom) has been focused on the idea of Louis presenting himself as masculine (is there a relationship between that and the lack of chat about his EI? hm), when I feel like in the past he was the most feminized by fandom, and not because of his mannerisms or look, but because of his willingness to embrace his emotional intelligence- to cry/ talk about crying openly, to share readily about his feelings and be vulnerable, all these things coded as feminine. He himself has said that he doesn't think he's anything special in this regard (or especially feminine, I think is part of the subtext to that) because Northern Brit men are just like that. I'm from the US so I'm not the one to really respond to that, but it seems to me that does contain some truth- I have seen a willingness to cry openly, to talk about vulnerabilities, etc, in other men with public personas from up there- but I think that again, what we're saying is that's he's showing more than just that, that we're talking about his emotional intelligence quotient being unusually high, which is not a regional characteristic, but a personal one.

[nostalgia-tblr]

I realised that the 10k words that I currently have is likely a much smaller fraction of the hypothetical completed work than I thought it was going to be and I told myself I shouldn't take anything out because it all seems to be fitting together fairly neatly BUT I am def starting to have my doubts about the value of "the scene where the two male characters discuss whether the female character (who is not in this scene) should be breastfeeding the baby that she just had with one of those men (but she's been passing it off as the other one's)" because WTF that sounds AWFUL and I think I only put it in there because I was all YAY I'M JUST GONNA WRITE ABOUT MEDIEVAL QUEENS (KIND OF!!!) and there was that whole Thing in monarchies where you have to get a wetnurse in because breastfeeding reduces fertility and your shitty husband needs AT LEAST another couple of boys what with infant mortality being what it was in them days. And for some reason (probably sleep-deprivation TBQH) I at some point thought that it wouid be a good thing to put into an MCU fic???

[spaceaudio]

boston2 anniversary is kind of crazy

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: It's come to my attention that a paranormal being has made Wayne Manor its residence. I've hired Constantine and his team to remove-

Tim: BUT BRUCE I LOVE HIM!

Bruce: What-

Tim: Stop trying to tear us apart!

Bruce: Tim wait what are you-

Tim: You'll never made me break up with Danny! NEVER!

John watching Tim race up to his room where he senses the ghost boy: I may be taking a shot in the dark here, but I think that lad is dating a ghost.

Bruce: Timothy Jack Drake Wayne, did you sneak a boyfriend into this house?! Young man, you turn right back around! *running up the stairs yelling*

John: So Bruce has no problem with the lad being dead?

Alfred: Please, as if Master Tim is the only one who dated a ghost. I used to have a gentleman caller on the other side as well.

John: Blimey, and here I thought you were just boring and snotty. Who was the ex?

Alfred: Clockwork

John: .....I have never respected another man as much as I do you Alfred.

Alfred: Yes, well, make sure it stays at respect, young man. I don't find children attractive

John blushing and in a squeaky voice: Yes, sir.

Madame Xanadu by a circle of salt: Soooo does this mean we're still getting the ghost out?

Zatanna: We better. I don't want to watch John make a fool over himself over Alfred anymore, then I have to. That man is way out of his league.

Madame Xanadu: What does that have to do with the Ghost Boy?

Danny popping in the middle of the circle: I think it's cause she has feelings for him. Personally I can't see it. Sad trench coat man is famous in the Zone for being terrible in romantic communication-

Zatanna: Bind the circle! We got him!

Madame Xanadu pale: What have we done.....your royal majesty, please excuse this disrespect. We had no idea you were the ghost, I swear on my soul-

Danny: That's okay. I don't mind at all. This is cute actually *swipes salt* like when a little kid pretends to shoot you.

Zatanna: ......that was our strongest binding spell.

Danny: Like I said, cute. It's not nearly as cute as my boyfriend, though. Tim's cuteness broke the bar! By the way, Alfred, I have a message for you from Clockwork. He wants to know if you are willing to have dinner sometime?

Alfred: Been there, done that. And frankly, I feel it's rather pathetic of a high being sending his grandson to ask for a date.

Zatanna blushing: Okay, John, I get it.